


Lazy Sunday Morning

by TuppingLiberty



Series: As the Universe Wills It - Force Husbands [13]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: On what's supposed to be a lazy Sunday morning, Baze has to drag his husband back to bed. And do something to tire him out.Modern AU - Seattle





	Lazy Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cognomen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/gifts).



The rain was pattering against the windowsill in that steady unsteady manner it had. It soothed Chirrut out of sleep much like he’d been soothed into it. At some point in the night, he and Baze had become disconnected, had slipped apart, but Chirrut only had to run his hand a few inches over the sheet before he found the warm cottony feel of Baze’s sleep-shirt covered chest. Unlike Chirrut, Baze could sleep through just about everything - thunderstorms, Chirrut cursing after stubbing his toe on the corner of the bed, everything. So he’d definitely sleep through Chirrut casually running his fingers up the side of his chest and feeling him breathe. 

Chirrut laid there like that, meditating on the movement of Baze’s chest under his fingers, finding his center in the love he felt for this man. He indulged for a few minutes before finally checking the time on his tactile watch. 6:34. Baze was a heavy sleeper; Chirrut couldn’t help but wake early. Years of habit, he supposed. 

He gave a small sigh and slipped out of bed quietly, finding his practice clothes and changing quickly. He used the wall to get to the living room, toed around until he found the practice mat and situated himself on it. Slipping into the tai chi stances came as second nature, honed over years of practice. He listened to the rain mix with the various noises of the neighborhood waking up on this lazy Sunday morning. A jogger - probably Susi - and their dog. Car doors slamming. Rain steadily, unsteadily falling. Just another spring morning. 

He felt Baze’s presence rather than heard it, which happened way more rarely than he liked to let on. This time, though, he definitely felt the weight of Baze’s eyes on his form as he moved fluidly on the mat. Warmth curled through him, making its way to his cheeks. 

When he’d finished the movement, the follow through, Baze finally spoke. “I came to find you and drag you back to bed, but I might just watch this instead.” 

_ Seventeen years? Seventeen years and he can still make me blush? _ Chirrut thought to himself, cherishing the rough sound of Baze’s voice, whether it was sleep- or desire-roughened. 

Smiling a little to himself, Chirrut moved to a new position, his back to Baze, and slowly drew his practice shirt up and off. Baze’s small intake of breath flew across the room, encouraging Chirrut further. He balled up the shirt and tossed it to the couch, then bent, knowing the soft knit of his practice pants - basically yoga pants - was stretching over his ass. He placed his hands flush on the mat and leaned side to side, ostensibly stretching his muscles. 

“Tease.” 

Chirrut flashed Baze a grin between his legs. “It’s not teasing if I’m planning on putting out, it’s foreplay.” 

He was rewarded with a rumbly chuckle at that. 

“We could have done the foreplay back in bed,” Baze pointed out, his voice closer. 

“We could have, but my laze-a-bones husband was still asleep. I had to get up and entertain myself somehow.” Chirrut eased up out of the stretch slowly, leaned back to reverse it, and found himself leaning against Baze’s chest - which, to Chirrut’s delight, was similarly bare.

“Maybe your husband wishes he had a husband that could stand to stay in bed for more than a few seconds after waking up.” Baze’s hands slipped down to Chirrut’s hips, pulling him gently back into Baze’s warmth. 

“Burning daylight,” Chirrut offered, the argument as old and worn and wonderful as their marriage. 

“Lost opportunity,” Baze whispered in his ear, and Chirrut shivered. 

“Not  _ so _ lost.” Chirrut moaned a little as Baze continued to toy with the skin under his ear, kissing, rubbing his beard there. Marking him. 

“Come back to bed.” Another whisper, one that made Chirrut’s stomach swoop. 

“I supp-” Chirrut gasped a little when Baze nibbled at the base of his neck. “I suppose.” 

Chirrut wasn’t sure what had awakened Baze to the mood, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn Baze away. Instead, he counted his blessings, turned in Baze’s arms, and wrapped his arms around Baze’s neck to pull him down into a slow kiss. 

Their chests went warm where skin touched, a glorious feeling, and Chirrut melted into Baze, wanting more. More everything. He reached to push both of their pants down so he could get more. 

With a grunt, Baze boosted Chirrut up with two hands on his ass, grinding their cocks together and starting to walk Chirrut back to the bedroom. 

Chirrut groaned, and it sounded desperate in the quiet hallway, but Chirrut couldn’t care, because he  _ was _ desperate. Made desperate by the subtle display of strength, by the feel of Baze’s skin against his, by the slide of their mouths together, by the absolute familiarity with Baze’s body, with Baze’s responses, with Baze’s sounds. He loved Baze with his entire being, and wanted nothing more than to show it on this lazy Sunday morning. 

Baze laid him on the bed as if he was putting a baby down to sleep, and Chirrut tugged on his arms until Baze’s whole body was lying atop him, pressing him into the mattress, radiating heat into him. He threaded his fingers through Baze’s hair and tugged him down for a kiss, couldn’t seem to stop kissing, not even for a proper breath. 

When they broke apart, and Chirrut was panting, he pushed Baze over onto his back and proceeded to take Baze apart one kiss to his feverish skin at a time. He lavished attention on Baze’s body, over the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders, and the cute little roundness of his tummy. Chirrut loved that tummy, loved the little trail of hair and the soft skin and the dip of Baze’s belly button. The tummy was the bane of Baze’s existence at all times except when Chirrut was worshipping his body, and even now, he let out an embarrassed little, “Chir-” 

Recognizing the tone of voice, Chirrut moved on, moved up, squeezing Baze’s hands and taking his mouth again, letting them fall back into the soothing rhythm of making out. Now Chirrut was the one splayed over Baze, and it felt really fucking good. Good enough that Chirrut was considering something he was normally too lazy for. “Wanna ride you,” he murmured in Baze’s ear, and felt Baze quiver beneath him. 

The only reply he got was to feel Baze reach for the lube, and he laughed, giggling helplessly into the crook of Baze’s neck. Baze shushed him, laughing himself as he slid a hand down Chirrut’s spine. They stayed like that for a second, basking in the glow of the laughter, the ultimate comfort with each other’s bodies. 

Eventually, they subsided, and Chirrut let his legs drop open, partially straddling Baze while he waited for Baze to prep him. “You call me the laze-a-bones,” Baze murmured in his ear, all adorable frustration as he started to work the tip of one finger into Chirrut. 

“You’re- you’re making up for it, don’t wo- worry.” Chirrut’s words slurred with pleasure as one of Baze’s strong fingers, so skilled at the potter’s wheel, opened him up just as skillfully. 

Baze kissed his forehead. Baze was fucking his ass open with his fingers, while Chirrut just laid on top of him and melted into putty, and then Baze had to go and  _ kiss his forehead. _ Like Chirrut could fall any more in love with the guy. Suddenly overwhelmed, Chirrut found Baze’s cheek, cupped it, and drew Baze’s face to his for more kisses. 

He fucked back against Baze’s fingers, three of them now, his cock unintentionally but deliciously sliding against Baze’s, smearing precum over their stomachs. “Now, Baze,” Chirrut ordered, though his voice was lazy and the command had no power behind it. He pushed himself up. Baze’s fingers slipped out of his ass, and Chirrut moaned at the loss. He knelt over Baze and used his assistance to guide Baze’s cock into Chirrut’s hole. 

The sound Chirrut made as he slipped slowly down, letting Baze open him completely, was low and keening, and when he finally bottomed out, hands steadying himself on Baze’s stomach, he savored the feeling of sitting there for a moment. 

“Ride me,  _ lao gong.” _ The command was a little hesitant but a lot sweet, and Chirrut grinned, leaning back onto Baze’s cock and beginning to pull up. 

Baze gave as good as he got, chasing Chirrut with his hips, thrusting up so Chirrut could feel nothing but overwhelming fullness. His moans were wanton, matching the soft grunts from Baze. “I want to feel you on my commute tomorrow,” Chirrut mumbled, almost embarrassed at the admission, but Baze growled and pistoned up harder in response. 

Chirrut’s thighs burned, but he didn’t care; he just kept taking it, bringing Baze deeper into his body, letting Baze mark him inside and out, driven mad with it. Existing only to drive toward the peak, to drive Baze there, too. 

His orgasm hit him by surprise, the peak cresting in waves of pleasure that pooled in his belly and traveled up his spine. He felt his cum spurt over his hands on Baze’s chest, felt Baze’s groan at the sight deep in his belly. “Come for me. Come for me, baby,” Chirrut murmured, still riding the glorious pressure of Baze’s cock against his prostate. 

Baze let out a shout when he did come, grabbing Chirrut’s hips and stilling them, thrusting once, twice, three times before filling Chirrut with that delicious warmth. Chirrut shuddered down into Baze’s arms, working his head into the crook of his neck again and coming down from his high. 

With a small grunt, Baze grabbed something from the bedside table and gave them a cursory wipe down before settling Chirrut back in his arms, his breath rustling over Chirrut’s scalp. 

“You know, all those shows on TV, the sitcoms? The ones with people our age, always joking about how they’re not having sex? What the fuck is with that, am I right?” Chirrut muttered, grinning like a fool. 

Baze snorted. “They obviously never asked us.” He went quiet for a second. “Not that I want them to.” 

It was Chirrut’s turn to snort, before he buried his head further in Baze’s neck and koala’d himself around his husband. “Mmm, you know, though. I remember when sex used to be energizing. Now I want to fall back to sleep.” 

“And what, wake up after nine am on a Sunday? Chirrut Îmwe? Color me shocked.” The dry wit of Baze’s voice never failed to make Chirrut grin. 

“Our coffee maker isn’t going to know what to do with itself.” 

“It’ll live. Wait, no it won’t.” 

Chirrut giggled. 

“Shush, I’m trying to fall asleep.” 

“You could fall asleep to me doing a one-man band rendition of _Sweet Caroline.”_

“Shhhhh.” One of Baze’s hands not-so-gently patted over his head. Chirrut burst into more giggles. “Okay, that’s it, drastic measures.” 

Heaving Chirrut over to his back, Baze covered him like a blanket. “Now shush.” 

Baze’s upper body weighing down his chest pleasantly, his fingers stroking through Baze’s hair, and the rain still falling steadily against the window, he shushed, and let himself drift off into a post-wake up nap. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm animalasaysrauer on tumblr. Please and thank you for comments and kudos! They fuel the machine!


End file.
